In Deep: Chase & Emma (All In Book 1) by Callie Harper

thought about it a lot. His
lips, so hot and insistent, fevered, coaxing such a tidal wave of
response from me. I’d managed to break away, but I honestly didn’t
know how. His large hands on my waist, his fingers itching to move,
caress, stroke every inch of my body, I’d nearly lost my mind.
    And according to these
women, that’s exactly what I should do.
    “If you don’t climb
Chase like a tree tonight, I will. That man is so hot it’s
illegal.”
    I laughed nervously,
torn in too many directions all at once. I’d never felt so insanely
attracted to anyone before in my life. The way my body lit up around
Chase made everything else I’d experienced before seem like child’s
play. Apparently my whole adult life I’d just been messing around
with matches, half the time not even getting one lit. Now I’d
stumbled into an inferno.
    Was I the only one
concerned about professionalism and appropriate boundaries? The
answer was clear. Yes, I was. But I was also the only one there with
a hidden agenda, and that added some complexity into the mix, too.
    “No, you guys. If
Emma doesn’t have dibs, you all back the fuck off because that man
is mine,” Megan declared.
    Funny, Megan had struck
me as a nice, fun girl but suddenly I had the urge to claw her eyes
out. I looked out the window as we headed downtown. The restaurant
was only ten minutes away. The ride was taking forever.
    “You do know we’re
heading to Rio in a week and a half?” One of them asked me.
    “And anything goes in
Rio,” another added.
    Finally, we pulled into
the parking lot, my stomach in knots. They thought I was crazy for
not jumping Chase. I felt crazy for barely being able to think about
anything other than jumping Chase. And now tonight if I didn’t jump
him, I might have to watch a whole bunch of other women do it in my
place.
    Maybe it was time to
drink some margaritas.
    The restaurant had a
festive, carnival-like atmosphere with music playing and
multi-colored lights strung along the ceiling. I hadn’t seen much
of San Antonio, but what I had, I liked. That was one of the fun
things about running, I got to explore at a good pace. I’d traveled
along the river walk downtown, jogged past the giant, ornate San
Fernando Cathedral, and the area was teeming with gorgeous,
trail-filled parks. But what had me the most impressed was the
Mexican food.
    I’d tried a few
taquerias near the hotel and they’d all blown me away with food so
fresh, crispy and delicious. The restaurant tonight looked like it
would deliver, too, with plates of appetizers offered up on tall bar
tables. I saw a large dish of guacamole with some thick red chips. I
wondered if I could steal away with them. No one would notice, right?
    “Emma! There she is!
The mystery girl!” I got hugged by some giant men, obviously
Chase’s teammates. I recognized them from the weight room and some
were familiar from the last Olympics. A gold medalist from 2012
wrapped his larger-than-life arm around my shoulders. He could
probably fit two of me under his wingspan.
    “Get this woman a
drink!” he called out to no one in particular, but a waitress did
appear who took my order for a frozen margarita. “Now, tell me.
How’s Chase treating you?”
    “Oh, fine.” My eyes
darted around the room, searching for the man in question. I didn’t
see him anywhere. Maybe he wasn’t coming tonight?
    Another ridiculously
supersized man leaned in. “Listen, if Chase gets too intense for
you, you come find me.”
    “Or me!” Added the
man/octopus wrapping me in his grip. “You know she was supposed to
be working with all of us,” he added, addressing his teammate.
    “Fucking Chase, man.”
    Then, like an old
Western movie when the sheriff walks into the saloon through the
swinging double doors, in came Chase. The guys talking tough around
me piped down, taking quiet swigs of their Coronas. Chase looked
right over at me as I stood surrounded by his teammates. His
expression didn’t